How he began

a masturbator recalls:

Several of you have questioned my early masturbation habits.  Just
like with my current depravity, it makes me feel so dirty and
shameless to reveal all of my nasty secrets.
I can remember pleasant feelings in my genitals from my earliest
age.  However, my earliest clear memory of masturbation was when I
was 6 years old.  I was sick and at my grandmothers house in her
bed.  She had these sleazy tabloid newspapers that had pictures of
women in skimpy bikinis.  I remember that I had cut one of these
pictures out of the magazine.  My little penis was so hard and I was
dragging the paper hand of the cutout photograph up and down the
underside of my penis.  I guess I was so into the sensation that I
didn't notice when my grandmother walked into the room.  She scolded
me for being such a nasty boy.  I felt so dirty.  But, she was
right ... I was a dirty boy … and I loved it.

>>From that moment on, I was a masturbator.  I did myself every day,
and often several times a day.  And yes, I made myself orgasm every
time.  I can still remember those dry orgasms.  They were so intense
and delicious.  I felt so ashamed and vowed to stop playing with
myself.  It just felt too good and had such complete control over
me.  Masturbation has defined who I am and has ruled my life.
When I was 6 and 7, I didn't have access to porn. I used to
masturbate to the underwear section in the Sears catalog and to rare
sexy pictures in Life magazine. When I was 8, I found a big bag of
dirty magazines in a road ditch.  And, that bag of porn kept my
little cock rock hard for an entire summer. After that, I was hooked
on porn. I used to ride my bicycle to the drug store and shoplift
Playboy magazines. Then I would ride home and masturbate all night to
the sexy pictures. By the time I started high school, I had a huge
collection.
I was an only child and both of my parents worked.  During summer
school vaction, I was often home alone all day.  I would spend every
day naked and masturbating from the time I woke up until the time my
parents were due to return home.
We had 24 acres of woods and I loved to walk through the trees naked
and hard. Starting when I was about 8, I would sneak out of the
house after everyone was asleep and run naked around the other houses
in our neighborhood. It was a thrill to risk being caught and
exposed as the nasty little boy I was.
We had a swimming pool. I loved to skinny dip and sunbathe in the
nude almost every day. I always loved to just stand in front of the
pool outlet jet and let it stimulate my hairless hard penis. The dry
cums ended when I was about 13.  After that, I fell in love with the
sight of my cum ribbons floating under the water.
I loved to dress up in my mom's sexy nities and underwear. Sometimes
I would dress up completely as a girl and run around the house
admiring myself in every mirror. I still love the feel of thigh
highs. We also had some spare swimming suits that guests could use.
There was one girl's suit I remember, a blue and white one piece. It
was way too small but I could stretch it enough to fit into it. I
just loved the way it outlined and highlighted the bulge of my little
genitals.
When I was about 12, my mom bought this battery powered back
scratcher. It had this little plastic hand on the end that just
perfectly fit the shaft of my little penis. I was using that the
first time I squirted cum. I was really sad when I finally wore it
out.
I was always fascinated by my pee. I had a little bottle with a
stopper that I kept in my room. I would pee into it when I had the
urge while I was masturbating. I loved how warm the bottle felt all
filled with my golden liquid. I even experimented with pooping onto
paper plates in middle of the living room or wherever I wanted in
the woods ... just because it felt so good.
My room was upstairs. When there was no one home, I liked to go down
the stairs head first and naked on all fours. For some reason it put
pressure on my genitals that felt delicious. When my parents were
home, they seldom made the trip up the stairs to my room. It gave me
hours and hours of uninterrupted playtime. And, I used just about
every minute of it becoming the slutty masturbator I am today.
I may be trying to recreate the humiliation I felt when my
grandmother caught me in her bed.  I am driven to continually push my
limits and to seek the kinkiest solo sex I can imagine.  Like the
addict I am, I need nastier and nastier fun to satisfy my lust.  My
mind is always thinking of new, more twisted and perverted things to
do to myself.  I've had so many risky and sick masturbatory
adventures.  I wonder where it will all end?